


Oh, This World is So Damn Fine

by AnywherePlace (BrownShrike)



Category: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Brother/Brother Incest, Developing Relationship, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Crack, Forbidden Love, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied Xenophilia, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Protective Older Brothers, Questionable Humor, Sibling Incest, Tiny Pansexual Disaster Nie Huaisang, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrownShrike/pseuds/AnywherePlace
Summary: A collection of short Nie-cest stories (largely unconnected, mostly set in modern times). Updated whenever inspiration strikes.
Relationships: Niè Huáisāng/Niè Míngjué
Comments: 14
Kudos: 149





	1. Giant Squid as a Common Metaphor for Repressed Attraction and Aggressive Denial

**Author's Note:**

> Let's just say I have a large number of dumbass Nie-cest headcanons. You've been warned. Don't take this seriously, and for the love of dog, don't make broad assumptions about my views on actual incest. I'm just messing around with my favorite brothers because Nie Huaisang is a jewel and a treasure, and Nie Mingjue is ridiculous in the best of ways.

When Nie Mingjue discovered Nie Huaisang's stash of porn comics, he didn't even get angry at first.

After all, his little brother was a healthy young man. Nie Mingjue himself had zero interest in erotica, but objectively speaking, it was normal ‒ normal enough for his sane and decent male co-workers to allude to it in their casual smoking room conversations sometimes. So he took it in stride, more or less, and simply flipped through a couple of thinner books. The images were admittedly rather... intriguing, for the lack of a better term: they featured women in various kinds of peril, ropes tied in physically improbable ways, and seemingly infinite numbers of... _toys_. Nie Mingjue raised his eyebrows and moved on to the next set of books, which appeared to be more male-centric, meaning that they all involved tall, muscular, athletic men with gags in their mouths and plugs in their... more private orifices. Some of these stories, if you could call them such, portrayed these men as... _servants_ to smaller, prettier boys with long whips in their delicate hands; this made Nie Mingjue feel uneasy, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

And he wasn't _opposed_ to homoerotic content, not in the slightest: on the contrary, Nie Mingjue fancied himself a progressive, free-thinking person who respected other people's preferences as long as they remained within reasonable legal boundaries. Still, _this_ was about his baby brother: unless it was someone else's collection given to Nie Huaisang for safekeeping, it was obviously a reflection of his interests.

The last and the largest stack of comics was all about giant octopuses and squids.

Nie Huaisang returned home in the evening, looking happy like a bird; Nie Mingjue was in the living room, staring blankly at the wall.

"Big brother?" Nie Huaisang called him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Nie Mingjue nodded, snapping out of his daze. "I suppose. Say, can we... talk about something?"

"Sure," Nie Huaisang replied cautiously and sat down by Nie Mingjue's side. "Um, is it about my studies again? You _know_ I've been doing well, and..."

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes wearily for a second. In middle school, Nie Huaisang's grades were almost catastrophically bad, to the point where he nearly made his homeroom teacher Lan Qiren cry in existential despair once, but after graduation, he enrolled into the School of Fine Art and Design and turned into an inexplicably stellar student overnight. Nie Mingjue wasn't sure how that worked, but at least Nie Huaisang was genuinely passionate about traditional painting and book illustration and had well-defined career plans. "I know. I'm talking about your... collection of, uh... graphic literature."

Nie Huaisang’s round face turned pale green. 

"Look, I wasn't _prying_ ," Nie Mingjue continued hastily. "But you hid them in our tool closet. We don't use it too often, but I needed my pliers today, and, _well_."

"I'm sorry," Nie Huaisang whispered and folded his hands adorably on his knees. Nie Mingjue sighed: it was merely a rational observation, but his brother was easily the cutest boy he had ever met. He was oddly insecure about his weight, and would often complain about his thick thighs to Nie Mingjue while undressing in front of him, but Nie Mingjue thought they were fine. A bit thick for his favorite dark blue jeans, yes, but in a perfectly acceptable, pleasing way. "I-I'm sorry, big brother."

Nie Mingjue squeezed Nie Huaisang's shoulder. "Not gonna lie, I thought you only liked women. Being a guy and all."

"I-I _do_ like women!" Nie Huaisang objected.

"When they're tied up, yeah," Nie Mingjue said with a wry smirk. "And dudes, too. Superman-like dudes in chains."

He saw tears welling up in Nie Huaisang's beautiful brown eyes and cupped the younger boy's cheek softly with his large hand. "I mean, it's cool. I swear it's totally normal to like girls _and_ guys ‒ as long as you keep things safe, right? But tell me, Huaisang..." He took a deep breath. "Are you, perhaps... _aroused_ by... the concept of being sexually violated by giant squids?"

Nie Huaisang blinked, then burst into helpless, hysterical laughter. "Giant squids!" he shrieked. "Big brother, I... Seriously, this... You're not supposed to take it so literally. It's... it's a classic visual _metaphor_!"

Nie Mingjue snorted. This conversation was getting more and more ridiculous by the minute, and he was beginning to regret it. "Unlike you, I'm not an _artist_ ," he retorted. "So what if I'm a literal guy? I see a squid, I assume it's a squid."

Nie Huaisang clasped his wrist gently, and Nie Mingjue shivered at his touch. "I only like these for artistic reasons," Nie Huaisang assured him with a sweet smile. "I-I guess they're unusual, but... I'm not practicing anything dangerous, and I'm not _actually_ attracted to cephalopods."

"Hey, don't get all snarky at me," Nie Mingjue frowned. "I'm just worried about you because you're a dumb kid and I love you a _lot_ and, uh. And of _course_ I respect your privacy, but I'm also the only real adult here, so..."

Nie Huaisang lowered his gaze shyly. "I love you too."

Nie Mingjue's face flushed furiously. "Don't change the topic! Anyway, I'm not going to _supervise_ your collection or anything, but promise me one thing... Once you start dating, keep me informed. You... aren't dating anyone?"

Nie Huaisang gave him a long, vague look. "Not yet, no."

Nie Mingjue exhaled deeply, overtaken by some kind of irrational relief. Squids were squids, but he wasn't thrilled by the prospect of seeing his cinnamon bun of a brother in the arms of lecherous middle-aged cougars or equally immoral male artists from Nie Huaisang’s professional circles ‒ _future_ professional circles, but even so. "Good."

After dinner, Nie Huaisang promptly relocated his treasures like a squirrel, and Nie Mingjue pretended to not notice. Quite frankly, he was still alarmed by Nie Huaisang's unexpectedly risqué tastes, but with enough determination, he could save him from his own recklessness.

And Nie Mingjue was a very determined man.


	2. There's That Odd Melancholy Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I imagine Nie Huaisang as a diabetic in modern settings (and surprisingly enough, I've seen other people who have the same headcanon!); I probably won't focus much on this because I'll never be able to explore this topic with any sort of psychological depth, but I might bring this up later again. And poor big brother strikes me as someone who would never _want_ to burden Nie Huaisang with his concerns (and rightly so), but... yeah.

Nie Huaisang's personal exhibition is opening in July, and Nie Mingjue doesn't know what to do with himself. 

Nie Mingjue is _emotional_ , doubly so when it comes to his little brother. For example, Nie Huaisang has been a type one diabetic for twenty years, and most of the time, he is almost surprisingly chill about his condition, which he manages remarkably well, but Nie Mingjue isn't, not really. He never shows it in front of Nie Huaisang, because it's _Nie Huaisang_ 's health and he doesn’t _need_ to feel even slightly responsible for Nie Mingjue's perpetually boiling mix of anxiety, frustration and rage, generously sprinkled with some irrational guilt for good measure, but every time the younger man experiences a blood sugar crash, something inside Nie Mingjue's soul goes into full from-hell's-heart-I-stab-at-thee mode, directed at no one in particular. Nature itself, perhaps, for daring to mess with _his_ brother and giving him a bunch of extra problems to deal with.

Later, he always ends up feeling bad for feeling bad. But that is a whole another story.

"Look," he says, placing his hand on Nie Huaisang's shoulder. "It's going to be fine, I'm sure."

Nie Huaisang blinks very slowly, like a friendly cat. "Thanks? I... know?"

"It's going to be _fine_ ," Nie Mingjue insists. "Your paintings are fantastic, all of them. Just don't pay attention if someone says something after all."

"Someone... oh, wait, you mean the critics?" Nie Huaisang laughs. "Come _on_ , this is, like, par for the course. I survived the Traditional Painting Department, the _biggest_ den of snakes out there; trust me, I'm thick-skinned enough to handle just about anything."

"Okay," Nie Mingjue agrees doubtfully. "To hell with them, right? They can't even paint themselves. That's why they're critics and not _artists_."

Nie Huaisang giggles happily at his brother's words. "You weren't _this_ enthusiastic about me when I decided to pursue art after school."

"Well, I..." Nie Mingjue sighs, unable to argue with this. "Look, you're amazing, but many artists fail in the end because the world doesn't _get_ them and... stuff like that, and frankly, I wanted a steadier career for you..."

"...but now I'm getting a personal exhibition at a Lan-owned gallery, so we may safely conclude that I'm doing well," Nie Huaisang continues with an adorable smile that makes Nie Mingjue's chest ache. "Super fucking well, in fact."

"Watch your language, kiddo," Nie Mingjue grumbles and pulls Nie Huaisang into a tight embrace. His brother's body feels so tiny and soft in his arms; he probably doesn't need Nie Mingjue's support quite as much as he used to, not anymore, and Nie Mingjue doesn't _want_ to smother him, not when Nie Huaisang is capturing everyone's attention as the Chinese art world's brilliant new genius who is rejuvenating traditional art with his effortlessly elegant strokes and lines, always true to the essence of time-honored methods – why, of _course_ Nie Mingjue knows what they say about him online, not only in personal blogs but also in professional, pretentious-sounding magazines – but this is too fast, too... overwhelming.

All of a sudden, Nie Huaisang kisses the corner of his mouth. An alarmingly intimate gesture, yes, but they are both used to this, and they never talk about it afterwards, never question the propriety of fleeting kisses between brothers, because something might change irrevocably if they dare to start putting it into words. "Thank you for always being there for poor little me," Nie Huaisang whispers. "I know I'm the world's worst younger brother and I drive you up the wall sometimes, but I appreciate it."

"You're not."

"I'm not what?"

"You're only second worst," Nie Mingjue mutters. "Don't let them stress you out, you hear me? I'll straight-up murder you if you don't take good care of yourself."

"And here I was beginning to miss your usual violent threats," Nie Huaisang snickers. 

Finally, they pull away from each other with vague reluctance; Nie Huaisang waves his hand, saying that he still needs to message a whole bunch of important people from all over Beijing, and Nie Mingjue nods solemnly, pretending that he has his own urgent tasks at work.

On his lips, a shadow of Nie Huaisang's kiss lingers like an indecipherable promise.


End file.
